Where Loyalties Lie
by Grazia D
Summary: Brisco and Bowler are hot on the trail of Juno Dawkins, one of John Bly's gang, but find a surprising roadblock along the way.  Updated because I didn't like the original story I had written
1. Chapter One: One Day, Out West

_**Obviously, I do not own Brisco or Bowler or Socrates or anybody in this story, except for those not in the original series. Takes place between episode 11 "Deep in the Heart of Dixie" and episode 13 "Steel Horses". Hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoy writing. Let a gal know, huh?**_

_"You have ten minutes, Mister, then I expect to see you standing right outside this bank!" Virginia Lloyd called after the fair-haired little boy as he darted excitedly across the street to the general store. "Do you hear me, Asa Lloyd?" she asked, fighting to be heard over the din of the busy street._

_"Yes, ma!" her little one called back, without breaking a stride, as he pushed past the dusty miners and cowboys that dotted the landscape. The eager young boy breezed through the front door of the crowded general store, his big blue eyes in search of the one thing he wanted most. Then, he saw them. The stacks of freshly printed dime novels neatly placed on a shelf near the cashier. He was so excited, he could barely contain himself. He rushed up to the small shelf, grabbing the new copy of _The Adventures of Brisco County Jr_. There was his hero, Brisco County Jr. himself, gracing the cover, the trusty Peacemaker in his hand, the barrel smoking from a recent shot fired at the band of desperados behind him on horseback._

_"Where Loyalties Lie" he read quietly off the cover._

_"Just got those in today, young man." the stout cashier said as he handed Asa a peppermint stick from the jar next to him. "You a fan of Brisco County?"_

_Asa nodded enthusiastically. "Oh, yes sir." he said as he accepted the gift. "I have every story about Brisco. He's my hero."_

_"Well, I think you're gonna like that story. It starts out with Brisco battling with one of Bly's men, and he has to escape from the Westerfield Club before it blows up." the cashier said with a wink._

_"Oh, I know he'll get outta it." Asa announced proudly and turned the book to the first chapter. "He has to. He's Brisco County Jr."_

_The cashier smiled and turned his attention to a customer, his arms stacked with supplies, as Asa hungrily scanned the first page._

_"'Chapter One, One Day, Out West'. Winston Smiles, one of John Bly's deadly assassins, grinned wickedly at Brisco County Jr., as he stuffed the handmade bomb into the safe, slamming the door shut before Brisco could recover from the kick to the chest._

'"Now I don't have to worry about the cylinder, or Miss Cousins, anymore," Smiles sneered, straightening his tie as a look of self-satisfaction spread across his face. "I hope you like dessert flambé, Mr. County."'

"No, I don't." Brisco answered before delivering a well-placed punch to Smiles' chin. As Smiles crumpled to the ground, Brisco dove for the wall safe, trying in vain to open the door. He looked up in despair, in search of an answer, a clue, anything to help him get out of this dilemma.

"Brisco!" he heard Dixie call out from the next room, her voice strained and urgent. Brisco abandoned the safe and took off as quickly as he could to come to whatever rescue Dixie now needed.

"Get outta here!" he yelled, helping Dixie to her feet, as his loyal friend, Socrates Poole, and the woman Brisco couldn't know at the time was working with Smiles all along, Rita Avnet, noticed the terror in Brisco's voice and ran as fast as they could to the exit of the Westerfield Club.

"Not you, County!" Smiles called out, tackling Brisco as he tried to exit the room. Their life-or-death struggle continued, with Brisco fighting back fiercely, the bomb planted securely inside the wall-safe never far from his thoughts. Smiles fought back like a mad-man, deranged with the thought if he was to die, he would take the son of the West's most famous lawman with him.

As Brisco tried to crawl away, Smiles grabbed his legs, pulling Brisco back. Brisco grabbed the door jamb, and turned over on his back, mustering the last of his energy to pull one leg free. He kicked hard against Smiles' chest. As Smiles rolled backward, Brisco scrambled to his feet; the sound of the bird form the coo-coo clock used to light the fuse of Smiles' bomb echoed forewarning from the other room.

Brisco ran as fast as he could toward the exit of the Club, not daring to look back, his heart pounding, his chest tight with fear.

_"Asa Elijah Lloyd." he heard his mother's stern voice behind him._

_"Ma." Asa sheepishly turned around to meet his mother's unamused gaze._

_"I thought I told you to meet me by the bank in ten minutes." Virginia said, her hands on her hips._

_"But, ma, Brisco's in the Westerfield Club, and it's about to blow up! He was fighting with Winston Smiles…he planted the bomb inside the Westerfield Club to kill off Dixie, Brisco's girlfriend, but she got out to safety, along with Socrates, thanks to Brisco." Asa said breathlessly. "I have to see if he gets out!"_

_"Well, of course he's going to get out, Asa." Virginia said softly. "He has to. He's Brisco."_

_"Well, can I have a dime, ma?" Asa begged. "I have to see what happens." Virginia smiled as she reached into her coin purse. "You'll have to share with Josiah."_

_"I will, ma." A wide grin spread across his pale face as his mother handed him a shiny dime. He paid for his new novel and skipped out of the store behind his mother, reading aloud as she led him to their carriage._

_'"Brisco ran as fast as he could toward the exit of the Westerfield Club, not daring a look back, his heart pounding, his chest tight with fear. He rushed through the open doorway that led him to the one place he desperately wanted to be. He could hear Dixie calling his name, but she sound miles away as the sound of his own heartbeat roared in his ears.'"_

He had almost made it to the gate when the building erupted behind him, the force of the blast knocking him to his feet, pieces of wood and glass peppering his back. He buried his head into the ground, covering the back of his neck until he was sure the last piece of debris had fallen.

"Brisco!" Dixie cried out, rushing to his side as he struggled to stand. He wrapped his arms around her, thankful to be alive. The explosion kept echoing in his head and the adrenaline continued to pump through his body as he realized just how close he came to death, yet again.

_"Wow." Asa breathed._

_"I knew he'd get out of that one." Virginia said proudly as she coaxed the horse down the trail toward the small ranch that lay just outside of town._

_"Yeah, me too, but I was starting to wonder…" Asa shook his head as he turned his gaze back to the page. " "There is no rest for the wicked", the old a-ad-Mom?" Asa peered up at his mother, the book held up like an offering._

"_Sound it out." Virginia said plainly, her gaze never leaving the road._

"_A-ad-adage?"_

"_Very good. Adage. It means 'saying'." Asa smiled proudly._

"' "_There is no rest for the wicked", the old adage promises. Never was it truer. It had only been a day and a half when Brisco and Bowler received their next assignment.'"_

"Two nights ago, a train enroute to Seattle was robbed. The only things taken were the bank bags bound for the First National Bank."

"So." Bowler snarled, his mouth full of eggs from the breakfast feast in front of him. Socrates tossed an agitated look the bounty hunter's way before turning his full attention back to Brisco and continuing.

"Those bank bags were filled with money belonging to Ethan Emerson. There were bags for four other banks in that car that didn't belong to Mr. Emerson; not one was touched." Ethan Emerson. One of the Westerfield Club's founding members, Brisco's employer and the owner of nearly every bank west of the Mississippi. The man was rich, powerful and no nonsense to boot. Whoever crossed him would have an unhappy ending to his story.

"Now, I thought we discussed this, Socrates. I'm not their errand boy. I was hired to catch John Bly and his gang and that's all I plan to do for them." Brisco emphasised the last part of the sentence with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"The train was robbed just west of the Nevada border, near Boca, California." Socrates continued. "And you'll never guess how the train was stopped." Socrates smiled knowingly as he glanced from one bounty hunter to the next. "The driver ran into a rock painted to look like the opening of a tunnel."

"How does that trick still even work?" Bowler grunted.

"You're kidding me." Brisco said, wanting to be surprised and finding he wasn't. Socrates shook his head.

"Mr. Emerson is willing to pay twice your normal rate. He's eager to bring whoever did this to justice. Especially since it's obviously one of Bly's men." Bowler let out a low whistle.

"Twice your normal rate. How much is that?" Bowler asked, leaning in close to Brisco.

"Bowler, I don't think it concerns you since you are not in the employ of Mr. Emerson." Socrates declared.

"That ain't fair." Bowler replied. "We're partners. That ain't fair."

"Bowler, what are you complaining about? You always get the bounty anyway." Brisco turned back to Socrates. "That area is where Juno Dawkins usually holes up."

"Juno Dawkins?" Socrates asked, the name unfamiliar to his ears.

"Only the most fearless of John Bly's gang." Brisco answered.

"Deadly, too." Bowler added. "Juno Dawkins does anything John Bly asks. No questions asked. That man ain't afraid of death and that makes him a very dangerous man. Which is why you need to hire me, too. There's no way he's gonna be able to do this alone." Bowler jerked a thumb his partner's way.

"Now, wait a minute, Brisco just said you get the bounties. That should be reward enough."

"Huh uh."

"Bowler, what's your problem? You can have the bounty on Dawkins and whatever Soc is gonna pay me, or you can just sit here and see if I care." Brisco tucked the last piece of toast into his mouth, suddenly eager to get on the road.

"I want my own paycheck." Bowler responded, crossing his arms tightly over his chest, his breakfast forgotten. "It ain't no fair I don't get any recognition or money from those robber barons, even though without me, you'd be lost."

"Ha, I'd be lost?" Brisco scoffed.

"Yeah you would." Bowler countered, sitting straighter in his chair.

"Ha."

"Without me, you never would have been able to bring Brett Bones in. Or Blackbeard Lacutte. Or…"

"Fine. I get it. Socrates?" Socrates stared at Brisco for a long time before finally heaving a deep sigh.

"Alright, Bowler, you'll get your own paycheck, too." Bowler grinned, a low chuckle rumbling from his throat.

"The same as Brisco's."

"The same as Brisco's." Socrates parroted. The grin widened.

"Good. What are we waiting for?" Bowler pushed himself away from the table, breakfast a distant thought in his mind. "Let's go."


	2. Chapter Two: Tale of Two Countys

"_'The sun was already high in the sky as Brisco and Bowler mounted their trusty steeds, off again to track down the cowardly killers of Brisco's father.' " Asa continued. " 'They were after Juno Dawkins, another of Bly's Gang of Twelve, and some say, one of the deadliest. Dawkins was known to follow John Bly anywhere, no questions asked. He followed out every order the infamous outlaw gave, no matter the risk, no matter the target. He would be hard to catch, but these were the two best bounty hunters this side of the Mississippi. Besides, Brisco and his faithful companion loved a challenge._

_They arrived at the Nevada border just after sunset a day later. The site was still marked clearly, pieces of rock and twisted metal littering the landscape. Brisco hopped from Comet's saddle and picked up a chuck of earth at his feet, its face painted black. He tossed it to the side, his eyes scanning the display in front of him. To his right, Bowler had dismounted and begun his search of the area; a tract of earth a few feet from the rail tracks catching his eye. He dropped to a knee and brushed away a bit of dust lightly with his hand._

"Huh." Bowler muttered quietly, pushing back the hat he wore with a finger.

"What?"

"There's only one set of hoof prints here." Bowler answered, looking up at his partner through narrowed eyes.

"One? That's impossible."

"Are you suggesting I'm wrong?" Bowler snarled as he stood.

"No. I'm just saying it must have been pretty hard for one person to pull this whole thing off. He had to have some help." Brisco scanned the area in front of him once more. "One guy dragged a boulder here, painted it to look like the mouth of a tunnel, and rob a heavily armed bank escort? I don't see Pete Hutter being able to do all that."

"What if I told you it wasn't Pete Hutter?"

"Well, then, who the hell was it?"

"I don't think you want to know."

"Bowler…"

"Would you believe one person dragged a boulder here, painted it to look like the mouth of a tunnel and robbed a heavily armed bank escort if I told you it was Jessie?" Brisco's head shot up to meet the gaze of the bounty hunter. Once the initial surprise wore off, his face sunk into a look of resentment.

"Yes, I would." Brisco shook his head, staring intently at the tracks at Bowler's feet. "How do you know it's her, anyway?"

"These are obviously Sancho's tracks. Sancho's right rear hoof has a small knick in the front of it, most likely been there since birth. I noticed it when I first started tracking Jessie four years ago." Bowler knelt down to check out the tracks once more, as if to double check his observation, maybe hoping maybe he was wrong, knowing he was right.

"Well, if she's out here, there's only one place she's going to be." Brisco proclaimed, grabbing Comet's reins, preparing to hoist himself back into the saddle. "In Donner with Dawkins. Which means we have a five hour ride back in the opposite direction. I don't know why you talked me into coming out here in the first place."

"You agreed it would be a good idea to see who exactly robbed the train." Bowler huffed. "Don't get mad at me because it's your baby sister."

"_Why would Jessie be with Dawkins in the first place?" Virginia asked, guiding the horses the last few feet to home._

"_Mom," Asa began, exasperated at the interruption. "Jessie is married to Juno Dawkins. They got married before Marshal County was killed."_

"_Oh, I forgot about that." A tug on the reins and the horses slowed to a stop. "And it's 'they were', Asa. You're not being raised by wolves so I don't expect you to talk like you are. Now, help me with these groceries before you go bounding off with that book."_

"_But, mama."_

"_Don't you 'but mama' me, mister. No excuses."_

_With a grumble, Asa rolled the novel into a cylinder and tucked it into his pants pocket before grabbing as much of the groceries as he could handle. _

_After the last of the bags were dragged inside, and Virginia began bustling around the kitchen starting dinner, Asa, alongside an excited Josiah—he loved Brisco County just as much as his older brother —had settled at the table, picking up from where he left off with Brisco's newest adventure._

"_They headed back the way they came almost immediately. No need for the helpful light of the sun. They knew where Jessie was headed; they didn't need to follow her tracks. _

"_They settled down just an hour outside of Donner, California, a city with no sheriff, no preacher and no hope. Nestled in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada Mountain Range, the town fell to the outlaw element just after the silver vein responsible for its boom ran dry. It provided perfect protection; the Sierra Nevada was deadly in the wintertime, sweltering in the summer and full of so many twist, turns and hiding holes, attempts to bring justice often failed. Many lawmen had endeavoured to capture those who defied the law; many lawmen had fallen to a bullet instead."_

The sun rose just after six the next morning, but Brisco had been up long before that, and not just because of Bowler's snoring. His mind had been racing all night, filled with thoughts of Jessie. It had been just over a year since he last saw her in Tucson. A year since she had escaped a death sentence, with Dawkins by her side.

He had kept tabs on her movements since. She hadn't stepped foot back into Arizona since, instead hopping from town to town in Nevada, New Mexico and southern California. Just a week before Dawkins' capture by the senior County, Jessie broke ties with the outlaw, heading north where Brisco lost her briefly, only to have her turn up in Winnemucca, Nevada. She stayed there briefly before moving on to Albuquerque, New Mexico where the first of John Bly's gang would meet his demise. Deadwood Dave, former cattle rustler, met his end soon after Jessie rode into town, found strung up to a tree just outside the city limits. Jessie disappeared again soon after and with Brisco's attention otherwise diverted, she rode about unnoticed, at least by him. He knew she had been hemmed up a time or two by Bowler himself, as well as hounded by the federal marshal who had brought her in to Tucson, Steele he thought his name was. But although Jessie's exploits were no long front and center in Brisco's mind, she was never far from his thoughts.

Brisco woke Bowler a half hour after sunrise. The manhunter was none too pleased and let it be known as his partner began packing his items.

"The sun's barely up and she ain't going nowhere."

"Yeah, I know that, but I want to get an early start. Besides, she's going to be expecting us."

"How she gonna know we're coming?" Bowler asked, wiping the sleep from his eyes.

"Sancho would have told her."

"Well, how would Sancho know we're coming?"

"Comet would have told him." Brisco answered matter-of-factly, trying his bedroll to the back of his saddle.

"See, a couple of months ago, that answer would have seemed a little strange." Bowler began quietly. "Not so much anymore."

"Good, now let's go."

"We ain't even had breakfast yet."

"We'll eat when we get into town, Bowler. Will you come on?" Bowler begrudgingly obliged, and the two men were back on the road toward Donner ten minutes later.

"'_Alright, boys, time to get washed up for supper."_

"_Ah, mom!" The boys cried out in unison, identical pouts upon their lips. _

"_Don't suss your mama, boys." Their father, fresh in from the fields, called out from the porch. "Go and get cleaned up." Asa and Josiah shared a look of disappointment as Asa closed the novel, marking his place by dog-earing the page. _

"_Don't worry, after dinner you can continue reading." _


	3. Mysteries, Tramps and Thieves

_After their bellies were full, and the dishes cleaned, Asa and Josiah rushed through the house, bounding out the front door so hard their cat, Ghost, jumped from his perch upon the railing that circled the porch, surprised from his late afternoon nap. He gave a strained meow and trotted down the steps, disappearing under the house. _

_Asa made it to the porch swing first and waited for his brother to get situated before opening the book to his marked spot. _

"_I wonder how mean Juno Dawkins really is." Josiah pondered, winded, combined with his dash through the house and pent up excitement. _

"_I bet he's meaner than 'Big' Smith."_

"_No way. No one can be meaner than 'Big' Smith." Asa gave his brother a look all siblings eventually give one another. The look that says 'what do you know? I'm older than you'. No matter how long they would live, the older sibling would always hold that deviation in time over the younger one's head. _

"'_The sun warmed their backs as they rode toward Donner. By the time they reached the outer limits of the town, the air had reached an uncomfortably high temperature, causing beads of sweat to form and roll down the side of each bounty hunter's face.'"_

The town was still asleep by the looks of things. Folks who stuck around the dying town weren't much for honest trade, thus no reason for many things to be open, aside from the saloons. But Brisco knew just because everyone else was asleep, it didn't mean Jessie would be.

She had always been the last to bed and the first to rise. As she grew older, the amount of sleep she required nearly halved, which meant most times she would be up and around after only three hours of sleep, a habit Brisco found considerably annoying. But her lack of need for much sleep benefited her; it was easy to stay ahead of the law when the law was still asleep.

He didn't see his sister lurking around one of the few shops that lined the street, so he figured the saloon would be the best bet.

"We not gonna find food in there." Bowler carped as he dismounted, but followed a silent Brisco nonetheless.

The saloon was just as vacant as the street, much to the irritation of Brisco. He made his way to the bar, well aware Bowler was hanging back, keeping his eye on outside. He ordered a whiskey from a guarded looking barkeep; strangers were probably given extra scrutiny, just in case some over excited sheriff or bounty hunter, or hell just anyone looking to make a name for himself, decided to wander in.

He was granted his drink, which he savoured as he watched Bowler out of the corner of his eye. The manhunter was leaning against the side of the door, his arms folded across his chest, his hat pulled down low. He was an intimidating presence, even when he didn't mean to be.

Brisco went for another sip of the amber liquid when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He nearly dropped his drink in surprise as he spun on a heel. Jessie was looking up at him, her face a mixture of uncertainty and happiness. Brisco took a moment to glance over at Bowler, who hadn't been alerted to her presence, before taking a good look at his sister. She had lost weight since the last time he had seen her, and she didn't come with much to begin with. Her hair was longer, too, pulled toward the back and allowed to hang down to her lower back. She looked older, too. Not in the physical sense, mind you, but the emotional. Eyes were the window to the soul, Shakespeare once said, or maybe it was DaVinci, it didn't matter. What mattered was just how true that statement was. When he looked into his sister's eyes, he could see a woman wise beyond the youthful appearance. A woman without much sympathy, but maybe just a hint of empathy.

"Hello, Jess."

"Hello, Brisco."

"You been here the whole time?" Jessie shook her head.

"Nope. I saw you guys from the hotel."

"How'd you get past Bowler?" Brisco was genuinely curious. The hotel was situated just across the throughfare; Bowler should have certainly seen her leave.

"You got here right on time." Jessie continued, ignoring his question. "I was a little worried you wouldn't figure it all out in time."

"In time for what?"

"It's a long story, sort of, and I'm starving." Jessie nodded Bowler's way. "I bet he is, too. I heard him complaining about food."

"Jess." Brisco grabbed her arm as she started to pull away from the bar. She stopped and looked up at him questioningly. "It's good to see you." Her gaze softened and she smiled.

"It's good to see you, too."

"_I wonder what Jessie is up to." Josiah interrupted, grabbing the edge of the book and tilting it toward him so he could get a better look at the picture sketched opposite the page. There stood Brisco County Jr., his chin covered in growth, gripping the arm of Jessamyn County. They could see the tip of her dark ponytail, peeking out from just under her elbow, pitched to the side by the movement of her head as she turned to look up at her brother. The movement forever etched in time. She was dressed in black, symbolizing she was supposed to be bad, contradictory to the light colors Brisco wore, but Asa had never thought her to be all rotten. She couldn't be. She was a County and with that great name came great moral responsibility. That was what the very first capturing of Brisco's adventures told him, anyway, and he believed it. _

_Asa yanked the corner from Josiah's grasp, clearly annoyed. "How about you let me read it so we can find out?" Josiah stuck a tongue out at the older boy but relented, settling back against the wooden swing._

"'_The hotel was where the citizenry of Donner could currently be found. Breakfast was being served and it looked as if every outlaw and cowboy had come in to get his fair share. A smile tore across Bowler's lips and he pushed his way past the siblings toward the banquet style set up located at the edge of the main floor. _

"Hey, I was here first." one heavyset outlaw growled when Bowler pushed in front of him, his plate filled with samples of each item the hotel had to offer.

"I don't care." Bowler growled back, reaching for a plate.

"Well, you're gonna care, mister." The outlaw hissed, giving Bowler a shove. Brisco and Jessie watched in amusement, content with sitting back and enjoying the scene which was about to unfold.

Bowler pulled himself to his full height, towering over the suddenly wide-eyed scofflaw. He leaned in close so that his face was only a mere inches from the other man's, its features twisted into a menacing scowl. "I suggest if you want to keep your teeth so you can eat this food you git outta my face and just sit tight." After a few seconds, the outlaw wisely nodded and stepped back, allowing Bowler to grab a second plate and commence filling.

"What?" Bowler asked after emerging from the crowd and noticing the look on his friend's face_._

"Nothing." It was now Bowler's turn to lead. The crowd parted and chairs scootched closer to the table as Bowler approached, well aware it was the better choice to stay out of the six and a half foot man and finish their breakfast in peace. They may have been some of the most terrifying men in the West, but they weren't stupid.

They found a place in the back, a little cramped but it would have to do. Brisco reached for one of the plates after they had settled, only to have it yanked clear from his clasp by Bowler.

"Hey!" Brisco objected.

"Get your own."

"You mean to tell me you're going to eat all of that?"

"Yes I am." Bowler grinned before shoving a heaping forkful of eggs into his mouth.

"You're such a pal, Bowler." Brisco gave his partner one last look of aggravation before turning to his sister who had taken place beside him. "So, you gonna start telling us what's going on?"

Jessie scanned the crowd, satisfied there was no one of importance in the bunch and leaned in close.

"Where do you want me to start?"

"How about with the train robbery." A wicked beam spread across her lips.

"That was good, huh. I was worried you wouldn't figure it out, but I read somewhere you've been riding with Bowler for some damn reason. If there's anyone who knows when I've been somewhere, it's him."

"Thanks, County." Bowler uttered, his mouth full.

"Why'd you do it? What was the point?"

"I figured you'd be interested in a piece of knowledge I happened to come across." An eyebrow raised.

"You couldn't just send a telegraph? You had to rob a train? You realize you stole from one of my employers and that man wants me to bring back the head of the person responsible."

"Of course I know. Why do you think I only took his money? It's fine, by the way. It's buried and I'll tell you where. You can take it back to Ethan Emerson and he's not going to give two figs about who stole it. Anyway, I couldn't just send a telegram. Where was I going to send the telegraph from? Here? Have you seen this place? There's not exactly a wanting need for a telegraph office."

"You could have sent it from Reno. God knows you were close enough." Jessie shook her head.

"I only had a limited amount of time, Brisco. Look, I knew you would figure it out and then you would put two and two together and find out where I was and you did. Although, I really can't believe that stupid trick worked on the engineer."

"Heh, tell me about it." Bowler interjected after a bite of toast.

"It's so stupid it's almost genius." Jessie rested her chin on the palm of her hand, pondering. "Does that mean Pete Hutter is so stupid he's almost genius? Or brilliantly stupid?"

"Is Juno here?" Brisco asked, diverting the conversation in a direction he had been wanting since the moment he laid eyes on Jessie. His sister sat up, allowing her hand to fall to the table.

"He is. Eventually, he'll be awake and then I'll have to explain the two of you, but I guess that shouldn't be too hard."

"Looks like you'll have to come up with something quick." Bowler nodded toward the doorway of the hotel. Jessie turned to follow his gaze, groaning without even realizing it when Juno caught her eye.

The outlaw looked alert and refreshed and caught sight of Jessie immediately. When he noticed the two men with her, his face hardened and his eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Fantastic." Jessie muttered, forcing a wide smile upon her face. A smile which her husband did not return. "Juno!" she called out sweetly once he was within earshot. "Come meet my friends."

With her back turned, Jessie didn't notice the apprehensive glance shared between the bounty hunters. They were nervous, unsure if Juno knew exactly what Brisco County Jr and Lord Bowler looked like. If he did, the three of them would most certainly meet their maker by way of a bullet.

"Who are you?" Juno's gaze was stony and lacked warmth as it fell on Brisco then Bowler and back again.

"Juno." Jessie grabbed his arm and pulled him close. "Meet…" a pause and a brief look of anxiety crossed her face. "'Kansas' Wiley Stafford and Joe Echohawk. They're friends of mine."

"Friends." The tasted sour upon his lips.

"Yes, friends." Brisco exclaimed, leaning back in his chair and looking up at Juno coolly. "We first met Jessie in Mexico about a year ago."

"What are you doing here?" Juno's expression failed to soften.

"You need help, do you not?" Jessie asked, the words rolling off her tongue sweet as honey. Her blue eyes were focused on him, wide and innocent. For the first time since entering the hotel, Juno focused his wife. "I got you help."

"I don't know these men."

"But I do." Juno seemed to ponder that phrase, chewing on the corner of his bottom lip. He finally nodded.

"We'll discuss this later. We need to go."

"Go where?" Brisco asked before he even realized he was saying it. He received the other end of the cold stare in return.

"That's really none of your business, is it, Mr. Stafford."

"No, I suppose it isn't." Jessie got to her feet, more at the pull Juno gave to her arm than by her own free will. Words passed between the siblings silently before Jessie turned to follow Juno out of the hotel, her dark ponytail swinging behind her.

"Well, that was enlightening." Brisco heaved a sigh.

"_Boys! It's time to get washed up for bed." _

_The brothers groaned at the sound of their father's voice. "But, dad!" the cried out in unison._

"_No 'buts'. Let's go. It's late." Asa scowled as he hopped from the porch swing and led his brother into the house. "Now don't get like that. You can read more tomorrow."_

"_But it was just starting to get really good." Josiah piped up, the door slamming shut behind him._

"_Brisco is just going to have to wait until tomorrow. Sorry."_


	4. Don't Juno You Are A Shooting Star

"_But dad, look," Asa's finger rested between the illustration of Brisco and Bowler on one side of the table, Dawkins and Jessie on the other. Jessie and Bowler looked apprehensively at Brisco as the elder County traded an icy stare with Dawkins. "It's Juno Dawkins. He's the worst of John Bly's gang. Brisco's back undercover as 'Kansas' Wiley Stafford. Jessie robbed a train just to get Brisco and Bowler out there and she hasn't said why yet. Just one more chapter, please?" The words ran together quickly and ended breathlessly. His father, whom both boys strongly resembled, took a seat on the edge of Asa's bed and turned back a corner of the cover so he could read the title. _

"_It's late." He remarked, but the tone in his voice betrayed with what he was really concerned. _

"_I promise we'll finish all of our chores early tomorrow and go to bed right after dinner. Please, dad?" Asa's lip pouted just enough to convince his father. The look never worked on his mother, but it was a certainty with the patriarch of the family. _

"_One more chapter. Then it's lights out." The brothers shared excited glances._

"'_Juno Dawkins may have been out of sight for the time being, but Brisco and Bowler never were. Eyes had been left behind, more than likely to report to Dawkins later on what they had seen. Most of Dawkins' gang remained in town; Bowler pointed out the short, long haired fellow positioned just outside the hotel, calmly rolling a cigarette. Angel Flybaker, a rather odd gent who was partially deaf from standing too close to a canon some time in another life. He glanced up when Brisco and Bowler exited. Apathy reflected on his face but the bounty hunters noticed his gaze followed them as they led their horses down the street. Beck Calder, bespectacled and brainy with dreams of branching out on his own, made no sort of attempt to hide his interest. He walked along the boardwalk, step for step with Brisco and Bowler, his hands shoved into pockets and his eyes focused completely on the two. The third of Dawkins' gang, and by far the deadliest, didn't appear until have Brisco and Bowler's horses had been stabled. He popped up as they exited the corral, leaning against a hitching post, a cigarette dangling from his lips. Jeremiah Johnson was long and lean, with a thick head of dark hair and eyes the color of coal. He stared at the two men hard, his mouth twisted in a snarl._

"You got a problem?" Brisco asked after exchanging glances with his partner.

"So you're 'Kansas' Wiley Stafford." Johnson's voice was smooth and quiet. Much quieter than one would expect from a man with a ten thousand bounty on his head.

"Who wants to know?" Brisco asked, even though he knew fair well the man who stood before him. Before hitching up with Dawkins, Johnson had been part of the Sutton-James Gang. Cousin to the gang's second in command, George Sutton. The same George Sutton who made Jessamyn County a widow on September 3rd, 1891 in Tucson, Arizona. Rumor had it Jessie and Johnson had never seen eye to eye with Jessie publicly disagreeing with any and all decisions made by the outlaw. It had been Johnson's idea to rob the First National Bank in Tucson and if Brisco knew anything about the younger County, he was certain Jessie had never allowed him to live it down. Knowing their history, Brisco found it odd they would ride together again, even if she didn't really have a say, and he figured she didn't have much pull with Dawkins in that department. Jessie had gone off on her own before, she wouldn't hesitate to do it again, but as far as he could tell—if the information fed to him was correct—Jessie had been riding with Dawkins for over four months, meeting up with the deadly outlaw just weeks after the death of Brisco County Sr. There were lots of questions Jessie would have to answer once Brisco got her alone. And he was not going to let her leave before answering them.

Johnson hadn't answered, instead continued to stare at our heroes. He took a long drag off his cigarette before tossing it to the ground. "Never thought you'd be a lefty."

"Well, I hope I didn't disappoint you." Brisco sneered.

"You met Jessie in Mexico I hear." Johnson pushed himself off the post and crossed his arms over his chest. "Now when abouts did that happen?"

"That's none of your business." Bowler growled, the expression on his face hard and unmoving. Brisco matched Johnson's stance, intrigue showing in his eyes.

"You wouldn't be Jeremiah Johnson, would you?"

"That's right."

"You're awfully interested in Jessie. Might I ask why?"

"No."

"Well then, it's been nice talking to you." Brisco turned his back and continued his walk away when Johnson called out again.

"I didn't know 'Kansas' Wiley Stafford started riding with anyone. Especially with someone I've never heard of before." Brisco paused, the tension thick so thick in the air it nearly made it difficult to breathe. He turned on his heel, the look of intrigue replaced by narrowed, suspicious eyes.

"If you got something to say, why don't you just come right out and say it?"

"Alright." Johnson uncrossed his arms and allowed them to hang at his side, one hand hovering near the handle of the Colt slung low on his hips. He took a classic gunfighter's stance, weak foot forward slightly, shifting most of his weight to his strong side. The movements were subtle but very much noticeable to a seasoned man like Brisco County Jr. "I find it kind of suspicious the two of you just happen to show up at this exact time. I also find it suspicious the two of you know Jessie County."

"Why is that?" Brisco echoed the gunslinger's movements. In his peripheral, he could see Bowler do the same.

"I think you know why, and if you don't, you'll find out soon enough when Dawkins and Jessie get back. You see, Dawkins may trust Jessie, but I don't. Conversely, I don't trust you. Especially since I've never heard of 'Kansas' venturing much further south than Oklahoma and I ain't never heard of Joe Echohawk." Brisco shrugged, a smirk on his lips that didn't reach his eyes.

"I wasn't aware I had such a fan in you, Jeremiah. I mean, you seem to know so much about me. Don't you think it's a little obsessive?" Brisco noticed Johnson's stance relaxed. His hand no longer hovered near the Colt. If Johnson had prepared for a gunfight, he would be leaving disappointed and he knew it. "You have a problem with County, I don't care. And I don't really much care if you have a problem with me. But we had an early morning after a late night and I'd really like to get a few hours of rest, if that's alright with you." Johnson shrugged nonchalantly. Brisco nodded, satisfied Johnson would let the issue drop for the time being and turned once again. Beside him, Bowler grunted before joining him.

In the distance, the sky grew dark, promising the kind of a heavy afternoon downpour only late summer could bring. Thunder rolled, momentary drowning out most of the sounds around them, but years on the road dealing with the worse mankind could offer made Brisco attuned to certain sounds. The heavy thud of hoofbeats as they contacted with the earth, the break of a branch beneath the weight of a footfall, the sound of a gun clearing leather. This was the sound that grabbed his attention. The faint rip of metal rushing against cowhide roared in his ears. Instinctively, Brisco pulled the Peacemaker from its holster as he spun. His heart pounded, sending blood rushing through his body. The barrel of his father's Peacemaker found its target quickly. The surprise was evident on Johnson's face, the Colt hanging, stained, just inches from its holster. Brisco's finger twitched on the trigger, his hand and gaze steady. The two watched each other closely; neither wanting to be the first to move for fear it might be seen as an act of aggression.

It was finally Brisco who lowered his guard, holstering cautiously, his eyes never leaving Johnson's. Once Brisco was no longer perceived as a threat, Johnson followed suit, a smile forming.

"I heard you were fast. That seems to be one thing right about you." Johnson walked toward the two, giving Brisco a pat on the shoulder as he passed. "But don't you worry, I'll still be keeping a close eye on you. Both of you."


End file.
